


Measure

by days4daisy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Blood Kink, Chocolate Box Treat, Incest, M/M, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-07 22:29:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13444740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: “You must be more careful,” Thor says.A snide laugh chokes out. “Ah, this is *protection*. I see.”





	Measure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [prodigy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prodigy/gifts).



> I nodded along with your prompts for rough sex with these two, prodigy :D Happy Chocolate Box!

The battle is so simply won, Thor is reluctant to call it a one.

Instinctively, he looks to Loki. His brother’s back is to him, and his shoulders shake with laughter. A dagger dangles from his hand, red dripping delicately from the blade. The bodies of their would-be assassins litter the floor.

“I’m glad you’re pleased,” Thor mutters.

The items Thor and Loki seek line the walls. Food and water have run low on the Ark, as have medical supplies and, most dire, alcohol.

It was Thor’s plan to offer an exchange of goods on the nearest planet. Loki, aptly, called his bluff. “Korbal is not friendly to Asgard, they will not be sympathetic to our plight. Besides - the Mighty Thor, a tradesman? I think not. All you mean to trade, dear brother, are your fists.”

When Loki faces him, he wears a wide smile. “You’ve become quite the reprobate,” he teases. “Here we stand, the sons of Odin, bludgeoning our way to a few cases of mead.”

In other circumstances, Thor would dwell on the plurality of Loki’s declaration. _The sons of Odin_ , himself counted among them. A slip, or a sign of some greater change of heart?

Thor’s attention is stolen, however. “You’re hurt,” he says.

Loki’s mirth slips to confusion. He brings a hand to his face and scowls at the red that coats his fingers. Loki toes the closest body with disdain. “It appears he took the worst of it.” Amused, he smiles at Thor. Thor does not return his humor.

The cut slants down Loki's cheekbone. Blood stands cherry red on his skin.

“What?” Loki snaps. “A lucky swing. You had troubles of your own, I saw the big one strike your side.”

“Your magic has not closed the wound-”

“How many times must I tell you, fool, it doesn’t _work_ like that. It takes time."

Rare to see his brother’s paleness broken by such a stark shade of red. In recent years, it has been as enemies, the sight of his brother's blood a hollow victory. But there was a time when such a sight would have boiled violently in Thor's chest. He would have razed entire worlds for daring to lay hands on his brother.

Now, he and Loki are...whatever they are. Thor feels no regret or sympathy for his pain. He cannot look away, all the same. Loki's blood is a rare vulnerability. It is intimate.

Loki’s annoyance thaws to brow-raised interest. “Thor?” he says.

Thor locks hands around Loki’s wrists without warning, met by a surprised hiss. Loki twists and tries to bring his dagger full force. Thor wrenches it from his grasp, and it clanks to the ground. With shock on his side, it takes little to wrestle Loki to the wall. The supplies lining nearby shelves rattle at the disruption.

Loki snarls, teeth bared. “Get _off_ me-”

“I will not,” Thor says. His voice is much changed, lower and softer.

Loki’s scowl becomes a bewildered frown. “You’re joking,” he says. Thor is not joking.

Loki’s body is taut, a thin line of tension, easier than it should be to overwhelm. Or perhaps Loki allows Thor, though he will never admit to it. They fit together, still warm from the fight.

“You,” Loki states, “are an idiot.”

“And you,” Thor replies, “are slow, brother.”

Loki’s mouth pulls in offense. The expression clenches his jaw and makes the cut on his cheek stretch tight. Thor’s eye darkens as it scales the wound.

“What are you-” Loki’s voice breaks. Thor’s mouth is on his cheek, tongue tracing the slice. Copper-warm, a slender breach under his lips. “Fool,” Loki mutters. The word shivers, half-chuckle, half-something else entirely.

“You must be more careful,” Thor says.

A snide laugh chokes out. “Ah, this is _protection_. I see.” Loki ducks to bite his bearded jaw. Thor’s growl does not warn as it should. Loki licks his lips, eyes twinkling in challenge.

“I just got you back,” Thor says. “How long you stay is for you to decide, but I will not lose you on account of your own stupidity.”

“Got me back?” Loki's blood is on Thor’s mouth, and he sighs at the taste of it. Their kiss is brief, oddly chaste. “I was never lost to you, my king.” Loki spits the title as a taunt. “If only you knew where to look.” His casual fingers trace the edge of Thor’s eye guard.

The scarred skin around the guard is still sore for the right touch. Loki’s caress pricks Thor's nerves, he feels it in his gut. Instinct should bid him to rip Loki’s hand away, or tear his arm from his socket altogether.

But the strange quiet of Loki’s expression stills his annoyance. “I thought you were dead,” Thor says seriously.

Loki’s mouth quirks at the sentiment. “Now I live, what good fortune.” Thor scowls, but Loki does not heed his warning. “I stand with you now, Thor.” His touch beside Thor's lost eye becomes a sharper scrape of a nail. “What more will you have of me?”

Much. Thor will have much. He will have all, if it is offered to him.

Loki’s smile remains mild, a curious cock to his jaw. It is not in his brother’s nature to offer. He prefers to be coaxed - or, in the right temperament, to be won.

Thor's mouth is drawn back to the line carved into Loki's skin. He kisses the highest end, nose nudged to his brother’s hair. His tongue tastes metal; already, the scar is thinning, his brother’s magic set to task.

Loki smiles winningly. “Such base desires! If only your kingdom could see you now.”

Thor nods and murmurs, “If only.”

He follows Loki’s scar to its deepest point in the center. Here, the wound is still wet and open for Thor’s kiss. He worries ridges of broken skin, and Loki stiffens. Thor’s mouth curves at the reaction. He nips, and Loki’s snarl becomes a startled hiss.

“What are you doing?” Loki breathes. His voice has an odd thickness to it, webby and uncertain. Thor hungers for more. He bites harder. Loki’s breath catches, a shocked, “ah!” that makes heat worm its way down Thor’s spine.

“Must we do this here?” Loki's fingers scale Thor’s torso, pausing in the cleft of his chest. “Is a supply closet your idea of a proper setting for such a fete? Surrounded by this mess?” He glances at the bodies littering the floor with disgust.

“Of course not,” Thor says lightly, “but since when do you require proper?” Loki scoffs.

He turns sharply when Thor plucks his mouth with a thumb. His lip pops angrily back into place. “I _will_ bite you,” Loki warns. His glare is edged like the dropped dagger at their feet.

Thor grabs Loki's chin and wrenches his head back to face him. Loki huffs furiously. "You will do no such thing,” Thor says before claiming his mouth.

Thor has enjoyed their renewed camaraderie, but his brother's anger still thrills him. Impossible to gauge or predict, Loki’s fury is a storm of passion. He kisses to bruise. He fights, and he shoves. He forces Thor to pin both his wrists to the wall, and he squirms so hard that Thor must weigh him down with his hips. Loki snarls and bucks, but it does him no good.

Thor feels the heaviness of Loki’s cock under is clothes as plainly as he sees the desire on his face. His hair is smooth between Thor's fingers. Thor releases his mouth and wrenches Loki’s head up instead. With a hiss, Loki's throat is forced to bear itself to Thor’s attention.

“Damn you,” Loki breathes, “if you _mark_ me-”

“You will heal it,” Thor says against his skin. “Until then, you will bear the mark of your king.”

Loki thrashes when Thor releases his wrists in favor of his pants. Thor wrenches at the leather, fighting Loki’s shoves and punches. His teeth catch Loki’s neck, imprinting on him with latched lips. A shudder rolls through Loki, deeply involuntary. His brother’s next curse is quieter.

Loki’s frustration breaks into silent, spiteful laughter. “What else must I bear from my king, dearest brother?”

Thor smiles. “You must bear that none know you as I do,” he says. Loki snorts, but Thor continues. “None can please you as I do. None will have you as I do.”

“Such vanity,” Loki taunts, but he lacks his usual smugness.

Thor punctuates his own hum with tongue flat on Loki’s neck. His teeth have left warm crevices on his skin. Loki does not make a sound, but Thor feels hands clench in his clothes.

“You will bear my name on your lips when I’m through with you,” Thor murmurs. Surprisingly, Loki has no smart retort for this promise.

Loki’s body is a canvass of angles opened to Thor’s hands. His hips jut sharply, the perfect depth for Thor’s thumbs. Loki grunts in feigned boredom, but he cannot hide the tremor in his breaths.

Thor frees Loki’s throat from his mouth’s fixation, following his neck to his ear. He licks and breathes hot, and Loki shudders curses.

"Will you have me?” Thor asks. “Like the old days?”

“This is embarrassing,” Loki mutters. His scarred cheek flushes pink, a shine to his kiss-swollen mouth.

“Loki.” Thor meets his eyes.

Loki glares back. “Idiot. I’m not a beggar.” Thor grins.

“I’ll require your assistance,” he says.

Loki clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He waves a hand, and their clothing dissipates, reforming in neatly folded piles on a supply shelf. Loki suddenly holds a jar of oil, and he hands it to Thor with a begrudging huff. “Useless,” he mutters.

Thor answers by calmly wrenching his brother to face the wall. Loki grits a low sound at the change in position, hands flat to the wall. Thor noses Loki’s hair and nibbles on the back of his neck. He rocks himself slowly, letting Loki feel his start heavy between his legs.

Loki’s struggles go still. Thor hears his swallowed breath and feels, slightly, his legs spread wider.

“Get on with it,” Loki mutters. Thor’s mouth is on the nape of his neck, sucking and licking, and Loki’s voice wavers in its attempt at persuasion.

Still, Thor does not need much to provoke action. He’s always found Loki’s body beautiful - so unlike Thor’s own but powerful in its own way. His skin's paleness makes a fine contrast to the black hair spilling down his shoulders. The sight of him prone, open to Thor’s whims, makes Thor even more aware of the heaviness of his cock. He eases himself close enough for Loki to feel his thickness slide against his backside. A strange, short sound chokes out from his brother.

Loki glares over his shoulder, eyes an enticement of fury and want. “I said-”

Thor grabs his chin and wrenches him for a kiss. Loki hisses when Thor claims his already swollen lips.

Thor greases his hands liberally and takes his time dribbling oil onto his brother’s skin. The liquid is cool. Loki shivers and digs fingers into the wall. Thor releases his lips, and Loki breathes quiet dissent.

The note hangs between them, soft and vulnerable, until Loki’s stare flashes new anger. “I did not agree to this so you could mock- a _hh_.”

Loki’s temper is worth weathering just to watch it crumble. His irritation slips to slack-mouthed pleasure, need dimming the focus of his eyes. Thor’s finger is inside him, a hard thrust, angled true. Even after all this time, Thor knows him. In this, perhaps he knows his brother better than Loki knows himself.

Thor shakes his head at the hand Loki begins to lower to touch himself. “Don’t,” he says, and he thrusts again. Loki grunts, and his body jerks. His straying fingers claw at the wall.

“Is your...ego so fragile that you cannot... _oh_..." Loki shakes his head, trying to clear the haze of his own need. Thor feels goosebumps blistering down his flesh.

He grins at this stubbornness and delights in sabotaging it. His teeth catch Loki’s ear, tugging and sucking. He curls the single finger buried deep, and he swallows a chuckle at Loki's startled groan.

Loki huffs, “Damn you.” He sounds weakened, and his hands shake against the wall. “Your ego cannot even tolerate my own hand on myself.”

“I thought I was quite clear, brother.” Thor speaks to the shell of his ear as he adds a second finger to his first. Loki growls his dissent, even as he opens his legs wider. “No one will have you as I do, even yourself. But don’t worry.” He smiles, allowing Loki to feel it against his neck. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

He thrusts before Loki can respond, two fingers deep, muscle memory well-honed. Loki’s argument crumbles before it can begin. He manages a gasp and bows his face against his forearm. Thor splits his fingers wide, stroking and crooked. Loki bites his own skin for stability, a sight that pulses hot through Thor's veins.

“Thor,” Loki whispers, voice more exhale than sound. “ _Come on._ ”

Even after all this time, Loki is his weakness. Were Thor inclined to press this game further, his own flesh could not bear it. Need throbs like an open wound in his belly.

Thor carefully withdraws, licking dry lips at Loki's barely audible groan of loss. He's slick with oil, a few drops dribbling between his thighs.

Thor coats himself generously, nose nudged to Loki’s hair. His lips find the scar again, tonguing its lingering taste. Loki hisses but does not complain. He’s too busy straining back to Thor’s body. With fingers no longer inside him, he seems intent to find any other warmth to occupy himself.

Thor does not make him wait. Truthfully, he is not patient enough.

In the intimate dark of his Asgard chambers, he would take his brother apart piece by piece in their youth. Thor showered him with affection, kisses to every inch. Loki squirmed and snarled, demanding not to be mocked. He was every bit the warrior Thor was, he said, and every bit Odin’s son. Thor lavished him with lips and tongue, admiring his beauty, until Loki came apart.

Thor loved his brother. He used to wonder how his intentions could have been so misconstrued by Loki's madness. Thor understands better now. Loki does not want his praise or his affection.

Thor does not give him either. He fucks him instead.

“ _Dammit_ ,” Loki gasps. It’s all he manages with Thor’s cock splitting him in one thrust. He scabs weakly at the wall, knees tested by the weight of his brother’s barrage.

Thor hooks an arm around his waist, greased hand slick on Loki’s belly. Loki's body is knotted so tight, an impossible heat wound around his shaft. Thor growls desire into Loki’s skin. He bites his neck and digs fingers into his skin.

He snaps back and goes again. Loki bucks beneath him. With Loki's silence, Thor knows, at least for now, that he has his submission.

Thor takes him, unyielding. The sound of their skin’s collide is maddening. Thor’s pulse hammers with it. His fingers scratch into Loki’s waist. His brother's hair sticks to his sweat-slick brow. Under his mouth, Loki’s skin blossoms new, red swells.

Loki complains about nothing. He gasps and moans, and he gives himself freely. Supplies rattle on the nearby wall. Thor huffs hot against Loki’s back.

“Thor,” Loki hisses through cracked lips.

Thor strains to catch one between his teeth, and he worries it until Loki groans. Their kiss is heated at first, stuttering, and becoming a brush between heavy breaths. The very act of swallowing Loki’s air is intimate.

Thor fills him completely. Loki strains back, nearly losing his footing. “ _Thor_ ,” Loki repeats, more insistent.

Thor shifts the hand on Loki’s stomach. His cock is blushed and thick, wet with his own leaking. Thor handles him firmly. He revels in the bridge of Loki’s spine and the rasped moan that tears from him moments before his whole body spasms.

He is beautiful when he comes. Loki would hate the term, but there is no other word for it. His eyes glisten like glass, his mouth drawn in a slim part. His brow creases, is he more dismayed or relieved? His waist jumps of its own accord, filling Thor’s hand with a shudder.

Thor chases him gladly. He thrusts into the storm of his brother’s orgasm as the spasms begin to ebb and his body goes lax against the wall. His body is so open like this, hole relaxed too wide to deny Thor his own finish. Loki moans at every thrust, so sensitive now. He murmurs something against his own arm, impossible to understand.

Thor holds Loki tight to him as he bucks his last. Loki shivers as he takes his seed. He does not even complain when Thor nuzzles a kiss between his shoulders.

For a moment they stand, breathing hard, holding each other.

At Loki’s first stir, Thor pushes himself away. He will not give Loki the chance to be put out, inconvenienced somehow by Thor’s affection.

It takes Loki longer to regain himself than Thor expects. He stays against the wall, forehead to his arm, breathing shallowly. His eyes are closed, lashes thick and dark.

Thor does not ask after him. Loki will resent him for it, so he goes to his clothes, grimacing and pulling his shirt on over his  sweat.

When their stares finally meet, Thor finds conflict in Loki. Some deeper-rooted unease muddles his dazed stare. Thor feels the same. Perhaps Loki is not as bad as he once thought, but he is still Loki, impossible to trust.

Still, Thor smiles as he holds Loki’s clothes out to him. “Thank you,” he says.

Loki scoffs and snatches his garments, but his warm eyes show that he is pleased. “Sentiment,” he says. “It will be your downfall, brother.”

“By your hand?” Thor asks. It seems a natural, witty response, and Thor is surprised by Loki’s widened eyes.

The falter is masked by an amiable chuckle. “If you’re lucky,” Loki says. Quietly, he adds, “Idiot.”

Loki turns to dress himself. He is slow to pull his shirt on, grimacing at the effort. The collar is not high enough to cover the bite marks on his neck.

Thor feels something new in that moment. A fresh tear in their already tattered history.

“Loki?" Thor says.

Loki glances over his shoulder, strange and subdued. “Don’t,” he answers.

Inexplicably, Thor feels hopeful.

*The End*


End file.
